The grand dining hall was covered in golden light from the chandelier.

The long table was already set with cutlery, centerpieces of violet blossoms, and enough wine to drown a kingdom.

The concubines had arrived early, each one seated, their gowns competing with the light from the chandelier, their makeup flawless, posture perfect. A gallery of beauty, all waiting for one man.

Thorne.

But he wasn't here yet.

Adina stood behind the chair where Thorne would sit. After all, she was the one still tasting his food. She kept her head down, but her ears were sharp, listening to everything.

Elara stepped in just as the last concubine arrived. Irene. The two met, stopping in front of each other as though to greet. Elara was draped in deep red velvet that hugged her body like a second skin. Her hair was pulled into a high ponytail, and her lips shimmered in gloss. She looked like one of them. A concubine.

The concubines all stared at her, some in awe, some in indifference, and some in irritation.

Irene looked at Elara, a smile on her face. "Oh, it is you, General. I almost didn't recognize you there. Mistook you for one of us concubines."

Elara smiled back, a sweet saccharine thing. "Must be your eyesight then, dear Irene." She paused for a beat. "It's a pleasure to have you in Obsidian. It's been your lifelong goal to join Obsidian as the qu—oh wait. Not Queen. Just a short-term concubine."

Irene smiled like she'd been expecting that. "Low blow, Elara. You're still not over your absurd little crush?" She chuckled. "I can understand the bitterness, though. You've been in love with him for so long, and yet… he has never touched you like a woman, Elara? Instead, he treats you like a eunuch?" She shook her head and tsked.

The air went tense instantly. Everyone could hear their words so clearly. Adina looked up, surprised. She glanced at Elara only to see her smiling. Was Irene lying? How can Elara be in love with Thorne?

For a split second, silence fell.

You could hear a fork clink two tables down.

Elara's jaw tensed. She kept her smile, but her knuckles whitened. "Now, isn't that just hilarious. You're the one competing to be a top three concubine, but you're still thinking of me." Elara paused, looking around the table. "You have your work cut out for you, Irene. Just how will you win his majesty's heart?"

"Why don't you leave me to worry about that and you…" She stepped closer to Elara. "—You worry about keeping those feelings of yours hidden." She winked.

Elara didn't get to reply as the doors opened, and Thorne stepped in.

Thorne's presence sucked the air from the hall. Dressed in black and silver, his eyes scanned the table, not stopping on any concubine, not even Elara. He walked to the head of the table.

The two who had been arguing made their way to their seats. Both seating opposite each other and next to him.

Thorne cleared his throat. "Welcome to Obsidian. I hope your journey wasn't strenuous," he said.

"Not at all, your majesty. It's a pleasure to be next to you like this," one of the concubines spoke up.

"Yes. I've been looking forward to this day for the longest time," another interjected, leaning forward, her cleavage pushed up so high. "I hope to impress your majesty with everything I have learned. I trust I will make you incredibly happy." She purred.

"Bearing his majesty healthy pups is our only goal," another, whose name was Lia, interjected sharply, glancing at Thorne. "You don't have to worry about a thing, My king. I will do all the work. I will bear you healthy pups, male and female, who will hold the kingdom together."

Another snickered, "Isn't that too boastful for you? Do you even know if you're fertile? His majesty needs not just healthy pups but beautiful ones too."

Lia's smile dropped. "Are you insinuating that I am ugly?"

"I never said that, but if the shoe fits. Wear it."

Lia's eyes flashed red. "How dare you—"

"Enough!" Thorne's voice was firm but calm. The table went silent immediately, all of their heads bowed.

"For as long as you will be in Obsidian, you will only treat yourselves with respect, more so if I am there. If this lousiness repeats itself again, I will be more than willing to return you back to your homes."

One look at Maya, and she deployed the maids to begin serving.

Not a single one of the concubines spoke out of line anymore. Not when he was there. Thorne sighed internally. This was his personal hell. He wasn't suffering enough, and they had to add this.

After the food was served, Adina stepped forward to taste. Her fingers brushed over the goblet and plate. First, she tasted the wine, then the soup. The salt level was high, and they'd gone a little heavy with the bay leaf too. But that wasn't her concern.

She stiffened slightly when she felt his eyes on her for the first time that evening. She didn't dare glance up, but she felt it burning through the side of her face.

Why was he staring at her now? Did she do something wrong? She glanced at the food and drink. Did she not taste it well?

Sitting calmly and watching them was another concubine, Freya. Her brows furrowed slightly, her gaze flitting from Adina… to Thorne… then back to Adina again.

Hmm…

Just as quickly, she returned to sipping her wine.

_______

The dinner was long finished now, and each of the concubines was returning to their rooms.

The concubine sat in front of the vanity, dressed in a baby pink nightgown. Her maid stood behind her, brushing her long straight hair back.

The memory of what she'd seen flashed in her mind… The king was staring at a maid? Judging by the colors on her uniform, she was a lower-class maid too. A slave perhaps.

"That girl. The one who tasted the king's food."

"What about her, my lady?" The maid asked.

Freya shook her head, "I want to know about the girl. Who is she?"

"Oh. That's Adina," the maid said. "She's… new. But not really. She was a slave. Still is, technically."

"Did she do something to offend you, my lady? If so, I apologize on her behalf. She's still new and—"

"No, she did nothing wrong. She just looked familiar. That's all." Freya paused. "That's enough now. You may leave."

The maid stepped out, leaving Freya to herself.

_______

The door slammed shut.

She was fuming. Those lowlifes sat there and argued on who would bear his children? Did they think they had a chance? Not when she was still alive.

She moved straight to the hidden wall panel behind her armoire. She had created this space just for herself. To help her in times like this when her feelings were threatening to spill over.

She opened the hidden compartment. In it were hundreds of letters. She pulled out a small, carefully wrapped letter. The edges were frayed from being unfolded too many times.

Thorne's handwriting stared back at her.

Words he'd once written to Roseanne.

"I thought of you when the frost came early this year…"

She ran her fingers over the ink, a crazed glint lighting up in her eyes. She had read this so many times now that she could recite it off-head.

He would write like this for her one day. He would see her. Want her. Love her.

He had to.

Because if he didn't… she'd make him.

"I see you're still clinging to that pathetic fantasy."

Elara turned sharply. Aunt Jocelyn stood at the door, draped in regal black, not a strand of her hair out of place.

Elara's breath caught. She'd usually been so careful so no one would find her—find it. "Great-aunt…"

"You embarrassed yourself tonight," Jocelyn said, stepping further in, her voice smooth like silk. "Letting a child like Irene pull your strings. It was a performance worthy of a market square, not my bloodline."

"I—"

"I wondered when you'd show me what you really are but I didn't envision it in such a shameful manner. It's okay, though. I know love makes fools of us all," Jocelyn murmured. "But I didn't live to be one-hundred-and-six while looking thirty by playing fair."

She walked over and gently took the letter from Elara's fingers. Her eyes glazed over the words. She rolled her eyes.

"How long will you continue to read these little love letters to Roseanne like they're yours?" She shook her head, tossing the letter aside, but Elara jumped toward to catch it.

Jocelyn stared at her unimpressed then tsked. "I've seen those little tricks you've done so far, but none of that will get you what you're aiming for. To get what you need, you need to uproot the problem directly from the source. All you have to do is ask for help." She paused, stepping closer to Elara, her finger placed under her chin. She lifted her face up to her.

"Now," she began. "Tell me, little General. Which enemy matters more? The king's pet slave… or the other concubines?"

Elara's throat bobbed. "Help me… Great-Aunt."

Jocelyn smiled. A slow, dangerous thing. "That's all I've been waiting to hear."